Playboy
by milkmoth
Summary: The twins still like to play games. Most of all, they like to break their toys. TwinsxHaruhi, slight AU. INCOMPLETE.
1. Aiko

_Playboy_

_Summary:_ The twins still like to play games. Most of all, they like to break their toys. Twins/Haruhi, Hikaru/Haruhi

* * *

a/n: I've had this idea brewing for a long, long time now. It was going to be a oneshot, but now I'm inclined to make it into a three-part story. As you'll soon find out, the twins have fallen a long way. So I'm stretching the bounds of IC-ness, but hopefully it can be forgiven. ) There are spoilers for latest manga chapters in the next couple of chapters, just so you're warned. You can catch up on the FRoP website if you need to.

Twins/Haruhi to a great extent, and heavy Hika/Haru. My love for Kaoru shines through, though, so I have to give him ample Kao/Haru time.

Sadly, this may never be finished. D: This was written months ago – I've been super-busy lately, and I have to finish a few of my other fics before I feel completely comfortable with another multi-chaptered one.

Reviews might change my mind. ;) (Just don't count on it.)

* * *

Our act hasn't changed much.

Oh, sure, it's not the same. We're not in middle school anymore; it's no longer tearing up love notes and laughing at their tears.

As Hikaru breathes a kiss onto her lips – eyes locked solemnly on hers, mouths not-quite-touching – I ache for something I can't quite name. No, I can. I can name it. It has a name. Haruhi.

I almost forgot.

The girl is glittery-eyed. Putty in his arms. Breath shallow, heart probably beating madly. We have that effect on them.

Our act has changed, but they truth is _they're_ still the same. All of the faces – from middle school and from now – blur together. Each face is wet and salty when we're through.

I open the door all the way.

There's just enough dim light in the hallway that it illuminates the room when I open the door fully.

My girlfriend looks up.

My twin's smirk surfaces.

She looks up at Hikaru, eyes wide, and her mouth puckers and eyes water. He unceremoniously removes his arms from her waist.

Without his support, she melts weakly to the ground.

She's nothing more than a puppet, I convince myself at her pathetic slump, nothing more than a plaything.

Her bottom lip is quivering. I start to feel sorry for her.

"Kaoru…" she says quietly, little more than a whisper. "Kaoru… I'm… I'm sorry… I really… I didn't…"

She knew very well what she was doing.

I'm not sorry anymore.

"How could you?"

I try to make my voice as strangled and choked as hers, and am pleased when it comes out sounding as such. "How…?"

Hikaru stands silently, still smirking just a bit. I turn to him.

"Hikaru, what were you _doing?_" I try to sound crazed, disappointed with my twin to the highest degree.

"I told her it was me," he responded quietly, and only I can hear the insane mix of smugness and sorrow in the undertones. I turn back to the girl.

"So you let him come on to you? Even though _I'm _your _boyfriend? _What kind of girl are you? Do you think we're the same person? Do you think we won't care?"

She looks like she's about to burst into tears any second, and the only thing that's keeping her from doing so is her pride. Her foolish hope that maybe, just maybe, I'll forgive her and she can be the girlfriend of a Hitachiin again, despite what she has just done. What will people say? What will the talk be? What will they think of her? These fears aren't singular to her, but she's especially susceptible. I know. I know her well, because over the years I've learned how to observe.

"You _slut._"

And I know just what to do to make the tears spill over.

And sure as rain, a single tear slides down.

Now she chokes down air, unable to get sufficient oxygen. Unable to get her breath past the lump of shame in her throat.

I know it's not for me that she cries, nor for her own actions. She only regrets being caught. She doesn't care about Us. She is one of Them. There is only Us and Them.

_(And Her.) _

Her sobs resound through the walls, even as I exit her apartment without a word. I pretend to be disgusted, and am either so engrossed in my act that it takes me over… or I really am. I'm not sure anymore; what's real and what's not blurs with the faces.

Her name is Aiko. And if I remember it in two months, it will be a miracle.


	2. Waitress

A few questions to answer before I go on:

1: Haruhi will come in next chapter. Just a little more time to get into the twins' heads for now. :)

2: This is not a Haruhi bashing fic, _at all_. The story last chapter (with Aiko) simply intertwined with Kaoru's thought about Haruhi, because (as opposed to Aiko) she was a girl who really cared about him and Hikaru. He was looking for the name of the thing that would satisfy his "ache", if you read carefully.

4: This goes under AU, at least a little. I wrote it before the conclusion in latest chapters (the twins reconciling their differences) and so it was still plausible that the twins could regress to where they are in this fic. There's an explanation, though, so hopefully that'll make up for the situation at least partway.

3: I've had this chapter finished for a while. That'll explain the quick update. Next update will take a little longer, so I apologize in advance!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

* * *

We enter the stylishly bare, stainless-steel coffee shop. There are murmurs all around at our entrance, and I slip my sunglasses down my nose. It's to let them see the way my eyes sweep over the high glass tables and black leather barstool-style seats. It's bare and cold. They need some warm tones in here, besides that suffocating red they've painted on the walls.

You'd think we'd been buried alive, with that earthy shade on the walls.

The hurried murmurs die down and everyone ends up looking away, uncomfortable. I suppose the café won't be getting as much business now. I almost smirk. Fine with me. I love the influence I have sometimes. Who would be stupid enough to stop going to a coffee house just because one – or in our case, two – people don't like it?

But I'm really thinking about last night.

Why are our operations so _draining?_ Whenever we plan one of our pranks, I'm moody and irritable all week. You'd think Kaoru's and my nighttime-to-AM designing sprees would tax us more, but those fill me with adrenaline. A rush. A feeling that lasts even as I want nothing more than to collapse on our studio floor. These pranks that we pull are the same, but the feeling doesn't last. I end up feeling gutted, but I do it again.

Why?

I know the answer. I used to, at least, but I've fallen so far I don't want to think it.

"Who'd you hear about this café from?" I say distastefully to my brother. We share the same mind. I expect him to agree, to reaffirm, and to mirror my disgust.

"Aiko," he responds, without missing a beat, but that's all he says. Aiko. That was the girl from last night; of course. It makes sense. The thing I remember best about her was that she loved the fashionable, the talked about, the thing demanded and sought after – that's the whole reason she dated a Hitachiin.

I suppose her greatest dream was to wear an exclusive Gucci bag on one arm and a Hitachiin on the other.

_Which_ Hitachiinwas not an issue.

Since we're already here, we find a seat. We make sure to keep up our bored, disparaging expressions. The waitress, clad in trendy pseudo-sleek clothing (_all mass-produced designers, look at the awful quality of the cloth! and this is supposed to be the hippest new café for people like us?) _looks kind of nervous, as any waitress might. She tries her best to keep up a bright smile. She's a cute girl, obviously thrilled to serve us despite it all, and I smile at her.

And when I get to my seat, I try to break her heart a little by flatly calling her clumsy when, flustered by the attention, she drops a spoon.

She looks a bit indignant, flushes, and scurries away to bring our coffee and bagels.

"The service here is a little slow," Kaoru jokes. "She doesn't seem to understand that men like us aren't interested in girls who dress like her."

We both snicker, even though his comment was halfhearted. It's always reassuring to know that Kaoru thinks as I do. There was a time when we wanted to be separate people, and I guess that still holds true. But now, we've realized there's little other way. It's Us and Them.

And Her.

I wonder if Kaoru's thinking the same thing I am. He's staring out the window, which is dimmed by dark yellow-brown shades. But a little of the lukewarm light worms through and reflects in his eyes, enough to see the look that's there.

He is.

The waitress comes back and wordlessly sets our order down. We eat quietly, at first, but I start joking to break the silence and soon we're talking normally again.

Sometimes I wonder if we were better off without her.

Only she could make us realize how deep we'd sunk.

The waitress comes back to take our plates, and I ask for a cup to-go. I leave a good extra chunk in the tip, all in cash. I'm apologizing.

I know Kaoru didn't mean what he'd said; didn't like what I'd done. My twin feels.

I'll always feel through him, at least.

The waitress comes back with my cup, gives the money a funny look, and then gives me an identical one.

"What's this for?"

I don't reply. My twin and I take our cups and leave, joking to each other as if we didn't hear.

The fact is, we heard her too well.

* * *

Manami stared at the money in her hand.

_All in cash, _she thought wondrously. _How are they arrogant enough to carry around so much money? _

She blinked again.

The Hitachiin twins.

Hmm.


	3. In Which Haruhi has a Mysterious Past

a/n : It's been just about forever, but I thought, why not whip up an update? HERE, AN UPDATE! xD I'm sorry for making anyone wait so long and then actually having the gall to _update_, thus raising the hopes of anyone still reading this, but there you go. Warnings: this chapter contains more exposition, this story contains OCs and TamaHaru. But it's mostly a TwinsHaruhi, I promise. Furthermore, the ball really gets rolling next chapter. Hopefully my writing/the long wait aren't too much of a disappointment to anyone; this isn't my best, but I'd like to finish it off satisfactorily! Excuse the handful of typos that might be lurking beyond...

recap: Futurefic: the twins are jerks. First they tricked Kaoru's girlfriend (a girl named Aiko), humiliating and hurting her. Next they went to a café where they made fun of the waitress, and where we gain further insight into these Future Twins. The waitress they taunted is named Manami… hmm.

Now. Back to the story.

Reviews are always appreciated; most of all, enjoy. :)

* * *

Manami slouched back in her chair. She would have sighed, but her pants were too tight for that.

"I hate these things," she said aloud, finally breaking under the tight zipper. "They're going to _kill _me. Apparently, in the world of haute-ish couture, a four is actually a zero."

The woman across the table looked up from her textbook. She sipped her tea and blinked. "I'd let you borrow my clothes if all yours are really that uncomfortable, but…"

Manami sighed. "They don't fit me. It's okay, Haruhi. Really. It's all right."

Haruhi looked at the woman sitting across from her, weary, more than anything. Typical brown hair, meticulously waved, and bright, brown eyes. Curvier body than typical Japanese woman, something that most men would find attractive.

"Manami," she ventured, unsure, "Is everything okay? You sound so tired."

Manami tried to keep up her happy face, but wilted on the inside. _This isn't Haruhi's fault. _"I'm fine," she lied easily. Haruhi's eyebrows furrowed, but she only sipped her tea again and didn't say anything more about it.

"Ken said he's coming back from his parents' today," Haruhi said. Manami sighed again, writing in her tight pants.

"Why is Ken always mooching off of me?"

"You should stop letting him."

Manami looked at Haruhi closely. She entertained the idea of telling Haruhi, twirled it around in her mind. Something in her just didn't quite want to mention the incident with the Hitachiin brothers, and so she didn't. She would tuck it away. Maybe tell Haruhi later. She wasn't sure that Haruhi wanted to remember her days at Ouran Academy, not after her broken engagement.

Suddenly, Haruhi's eyes widened. Manami, glanced up from her tea to see.

"What _is_ it?" Manami asked, just a tad irritated, as she stirred another packet of sweetener into her tea (more for something to do with her hands, something to keep her from looking at Haruhi, than anything else, since she'd already added her customary five packets of sugar-free sweetener). "You and your big eyes, what are you looking at-?"

Haruhi nodded. "Ken," she said, somewhere between an answer to Manami's question and a greeting to the tall, lanky man that now stood near their table, grinning widely and balancing a thick stack of books. He ran his free hand through his neatly-cut brown hair, and smiled his lopsided toothpaste-aid smile. His thick black glasses were falling down his nose, and Manami had half a whim to reach toward his face and push them up for him.

"Ke-"

"Hey, Haruhi," he said, nodding in return and giving a little wave, along with an even goofier smile, which nearly made his books topple down. Manami reflexively stood up to help him steady the dangerously leaning pile.

"You should watch it," she warned him, but he just smiled at her. "Hey, Manami," he laughed, "You don't have to mother me so much!"

She sat back down, and crossed her legs, took a long sip of her tea. _Mother? _

"You can sit down if you want," Haruhi said. "Manami's right, you should put down that pile of books. You could hurt yourself. It's good to see you again. How was your weekend?

The books clanged against the thin metal-pattern table and Ken slid easily down into the free seat. "It was fine. I got to eat my mom's cooking, which is practically the only good thing about holiday weekends. What's going on?"

"I saw two guys from Haruhi's high school today," Manami blurted out.

Ken looked mildly interested, while Haruhi leaned forward.

"Who?"

Now Ken leaned forward as well, and Manami suddenly felt nervous. Haruhi's old friends had familiar names, names that turned up in the tabloids every weekened and were used in households throughout Japan.

"The designer ones," Manami said, going for the vague, I'm-not-really-all-that-interested vibe.

Haruhi blinked. "Hikaru and Kaoru? I haven't seen them in years." She leaned back, her eyebrows furrowed into what Manami called her "thinking law student" expression. _She was always one of the best in class, _Manami thought.

"Yeah," Manami continued, trying to keep her interest out of her voice. "They showed up at the café today." _They were pretty big assholes. I can't believe you used to hang out with them. And God, they were handsome. So of course I acted like an idiot around them. _

"Wow," said Haruhi, picking up her textbook and suddenly looking uncomfortable. "Well, that's great. I… I think I've got to go."

Manami glanced over at Ken, who was watched Haruhi leave.

"I just got here," he said, exagerrating his disappointment.

"Don't be such a baby," Manami said. She meant for it to be a snap, but it came out softer, as her words always did around attractive men. Around Ken, especially.

"I guess she doesn't want to talk about…. About her high school, does she?

"Not after that whole fiasco with her fiance. That was a mess."

Ken frowned. "I don't think she ever got over him."

"I'm sure she's not entirely over him. Not that Haruhi's _that _sentimental or anything. You can tell she's upset, though, when she starts spending over four hours a day at the library. Like she's been doing for the past six months." She chewed at the inside of her cheek. "Plus, you read all that crap about them in the papers, and I can see why she wouldn't feel like she belongs around them anymore. I mean, the Hitachiin twins are good looking, but for ever pretty picture there is of them there's an article about them being nasty to this person or that girl, and most of the time I told myself, 'Manami, only believe half of what you read…' But all this time, those articles have been right. Those guys are _assholes._" She ended by taking a sip of tea and setting it back down with a thump.

Ken nodded, although he didn't meet her eye. He cleared his throat and turned to her. "Hey, Manami?"

Shestraightened up a little despite her super-painfully-tight pants. "Yes?"

"Are you paying?"

* * *

At home, Haruhi tried not to look at her telephone. Or her computer.

_No. _

She went back to her law textbook, but the definitions and rules and snippets started to blur.

_Check, _some nostalgic, sentimental part of her said, _just check up on them. You don't know anything about how they've been doing, other than what Manami is always reading to you out of her trashy tabloids. _

She nearly jumped up out of her chair to grab her laptop. With as much cool, indifferent brevity as she could muster, she emailed Hunny.

_I'm not going to let a tabloid tell me about my friends, _she resolved, although the urgle to google them – Hikaru and Kaoru, who always seemed to irritate her and make her laugh and hurt her in their own wounds – was strong.

She was just closing her laptop when she heard her cell phone ring. She picked it up without checking the caller ID, because she never did, wasn't used to it.

"Hey," Manami said, "It's me. Ken feels gypped by you walking out early. He wants to reschedule your date."

Haruhi looked at her cell indredulously. "Date? What date?"

"I'm kidding, I'm just saying. He was planning to spend time with… us, and he didn't get to because he had to go to the library and get all those medical textbooks." She paused. "He works too hard, just like… well, just like you."

"What does he want to do?"

"Lunch, tomorrow. The place that I work, because we get a pretty discount and I don't work Wednesdays."

Haruhi groaned. "Why does he want to go _there_?"

"Hey, we have pretty good food. You've never been there, you might like it!"

Haruhi smiled wryly. "You're awfully loyal for someone who was just complaining about her 'sucky waitressing job' two months ago."

Haruhi could practically feel Manami shooting her a dirty glare over the phone.

"Okay, _okay,_" she said, shaking her head. "I understand. When did he want to meet?"

"Noon. See you there?"

"Sure."

They both hung up, and Haruhi found herself staring at her shut computer. Tempted to google Hikaru, or Kaoru… or Tamaki. A little part of her, the part that read shoujo manga and infrequently blushed, feared that he'd found some other girl. Some rich girl, some pretty girl, some Éclair Tonnere type of girl, and her heart ached. It didn't just ache – it felt like it was burning. And another part of her knew that he was probably still upset, just like she was, only twenty thousand times more demonstrative. Probably still crying bi-weekly to Kyouya from their school in Europe (Kyouya had called to inform her that she was the cause of this new annoyance and that she _owed him _for sponging up the grief that would otherwise spill over into caffeine-induced, 2 AM phone calls to her cell).

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe, but she found her heart beating too fast. _This is why,_ she thought to herself, _this is why you broke up with him. _

And then, with the kind of discipline that only Haruhi could manage, she sat back down and went back to her text book.


End file.
